Throbbing like a
tiny tribal drum,
the bird's an
irridescent blur,
a lava-bright
ember, moving
imperceptibly from
a state of torpor
to audible ash.
Easy to marvel at
its kernel of muscle,
size of a match-head,
wedged between
the scarlet chain-
mail spread across
its neck and the
ink-berry drizzle
of wings, before it
rises from the musty
splendor of urns,
pauses and then
flawlessly ascends
in visible echo.
